Driving
by el spirito
Summary: When McGee gets to drive, DiNozzo is anything but happy. But the combination of Tony being annoying and Tim being annoyed is not a good one... All characters are owned by...not me. Rating to be safe. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

"DiNozzo, McGee, you two drive out to Mrs. Thompson's house and interview her. Ziva, we're going to talk to Pvt. Thompson's CO."

"On it boss," DiNozzo said, grabbing his pack. McGee followed suit and Tony stood there for a second, obviously waiting for something. He was startled when the key ring he was expecting flew past his head and was picked out of the air by McGee. Tony gaped at him, mouth open. Tim smirked at him and DiNozzo turned to Gibbs, mouth still hanging.

"McGee's driving," Gibbs said simply. DiNozzo shook his head.

"But boss, as senior agent-"

"You've been late twice this week, DiNozzo. I'm sure McGee can get to Thompson's house more quickly than you can." Tony's look changed to one of indignation.

"McGee? Boss, he drives like-"

"Now, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, signaling to Ziva. As they left the room, DiNozzo turned back to McGee.

"Probie," he began, but McGee shook his head. They walked out to the SUV, Tony glaring at Tim the whole way. At the car, Tim cheerfully held the passenger door open for DiNozzo, who grumblingly climbed in.

He was still pouting when McGee got into the driver's seat.

"This means nothing, McGeek," Tony growled, but McGee grinned at him as he put the key in the ignition.

"Except that I'm a better driver," he said, and he had to keep himself from laughing at Tony's expression.

"You wish, McProbie," he muttered, glaring out the window. The car was quiet for a few minutes as Tim pulled out of the parking lot, but it quickly became apparent that DiNozzo was not going to go down quietly.

"Come on McGee, you could have made that! Now we're stuck behind this slow old geezer!" He cried as McGee allowed a green Subaru to go past.

"Tony, it's called being polite," McGee answered, rolling his eyes. A few minutes later, DiNozzo was at it again.

"The speed limit is 55 Probie, you're barely going 50!"

"Tony, shut up. I do not need you backseat driving here!" Tony grinned.

"Obviously, you do." McGee's hands tightened on the steering wheel and he gritted his teeth, refusing to give in to Tony's taunting. McGee was relieved when they left the city's boundaries; the Thompsons lived a ways off, and the traffic was bound to be less-meaning there would be less for DiNozzo to complain about, and therefore he would, in theory, shut up. McGee grinned as his theory proved true and Tony remained silent-for all of three minutes.

DiNozzo reached over and flicked the radio on, turning it to a classic rock station and blasting Bon Jovi. McGee rolled his eyes and turned the radio off.

"Tony, nobody likes Bon Jovi," he said, and Tony glared at him.

"I am not going to validate that statement by responding," he said icily, and McGee had to hide his smile. It was rare that he was the one doing the annoying, and he could actually see why Tony might enjoy it so much. His musings were again interrupted when Tony started singing, quite badly, and tapping his fingers in rhythm to "Dead or Alive." McGee nearly lost it, but instead turned the radio on and tuned it to the classical station. It was playing a loud, operatic piece that, in truth, McGee didn't like, but he was willing to put up with it as he saw DiNozzo's face.

"Opera, Probie? Seriously?" McGee looked at him innocently for a second.

"What, don't you like opera Tony? You seem like the type." Tony glared at him, then sighed and sat back in his seat. They were completely out of the suburbs now, alone on a long stretch of road with various other roads running perpendicular to it, but not much else.

"Damn, she lives out in the middle of nowhere," Tony muttered, looking at the empty fields and distinctly buildingless landscape.

"That she does," McGee agreed. "We should be there in about 15 minutes." Tony glanced up at the speedometer.

"We could be there sooner if you would just drive faster," he muttered, and McGee had had enough. He stomped on the brakes, bringing the SUV to an abrupt stop.

"DiNozzo, if you-" he started, but was cut off by a yell from Tony, a blaring of horns, and a huge noise. His head smashed against the steering wheel and he felt a searing pain, then all was black.

Xxxxxxx

With a groan and a dull pounding in his head, Tim McGee regained consciousness. He looked around in confusion, unable to grasp what was going on, when he heard a noise, a screeching of metal. Turning towards the sound, he realized that the car that had T-boned them was pulling away and driving off. At that moment, he understood two things: One, that he must have been out for mere seconds, two, that the bastard who had hit them was leaving, without even checking to see if they were okay.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath. "He just left, Tony." There was no response, and McGee suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to check on the senior field agent. "Tony?" DiNozzo was sitting straight up in the seat. He was pale and shivering, a stream of blood running down his face, but from his position Tim could see no other injury.

"Are you okay?" He asked, worry increasing as Tony didn't move to look at him.

"Probie?" DiNozzo finally muttered, and the worry McGee had felt increased a thousand times as Tony's voice cracked. Unbuckling, Tim leaned over to see what had happened and couldn't help a low curse from escaping his lips. A hunk of metal was sticking out of Tony's side, blood all over the seat and the metal and Tony and _holy crap_ they were screwed…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews!

"Tony, just hang on, okay? Don't move." With trembling fingers, Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, praying for reception. His prayers went unanswered as he saw that he had only one bar. He glanced at Tony, whose face was scrunched in pain, sweat dripping down his face. For a moment, McGee honestly didn't know what to do and could feel bile rising in the back of his throat. He scrambled quickly back to the driver's seat and wrenched open the door, vomiting on the ground.

"Okay?" DiNozzo mumbled, though he didn't turn to face McGee, and Tim nodded as he wiped a shaky hand across his mouth. "You've got a concussion." Tony added.

"Yeah, I think so," Tim answered. He stood up again, swayed a bit, then staggered over to the passenger side. From here he could see better what had happened; DiNozzo's door was completely smashed in, and McGee actually found himself thinking that Tony was fairly lucky, considering. That didn't stop Tony from bleeding out in the middle of nowhere though. Suddenly, McGee realized that he needed to help DiNozzo, somehow, and he quickly walked back to the driver's side, where he could still open the door.

"Hang on, Tony, I've got a first aid kit in the back, just let me get it," Tim called, knowing that the kit wouldn't have anything of real use, but hopefully there might be some gauze or something…He was digging around in the back when he heard Tony say something.

"What? Tony, I missed that," Tim called, and Tony repeated himself.

"This reminds me of a movie," he said, voice weaker than it had been earlier. McGee wanted to simultaneously laugh and cry.

"Which one?" He asked, relieved when he spotted the kit on the ground. "Tony?" Tim started to panic when Tony didn't answer. He quickly grabbed the first aid kit and scrambled forward. Tony was slumped forward, head hanging, any color he had had completely gone.

"No, no no no," McGee muttered, dropping the first aid kit and pressing shaking fingers to DiNozzo's neck. He was relieved to find a pulse, but it was weak and too fast, and his breaths were shallow and quick. Tim looked at the agent and realized that he was going to have to move him somehow, but there was no way he could open that door and he didn't want to risk hurting Tony further. Still, he might as well do it now, while the senior agent was unconscious…A voice in the back of his head reminded him that it might not matter if he did it now because it was entirely possible that Tony would remain unconscious forever, but he quickly shoved the thought away.

"Okay Tony, I'm gonna get you out of here," he muttered, knowing that Tony couldn't hear him but not really caring. He carefully unbuckled the seat belt, then cut the shoulder strap so that he wouldn't have to maneuver Tony's injured side through it. Tony slumped all the way forward, and McGee awkwardly caught him, turning him so that the wounded agent's head was resting against his chest and Tim was holding him under the armpits. A sudden groan erupted from Tony's mouth as Tim tried to ease him over the center console, despite his best efforts allowing the piece of metal to brush against the emergency brake.

"Damn it, I'm sorry Tony," Tim muttered, sweat dripping into his eyes as he struggled to move DiNozzo's lax body. "If I didn't know you worked out obsessively, I'd say you could stand to lose a few." Damn, he hated Tony being so still and unresponsive, it didn't fit him at all, McGee couldn't imagine standing there and watching Tony die, it couldn't happen… It hit him all of a sudden. It was his fault that Tony had gotten hurt. If he hadn't stopped, maybe they would've been clipped, but it wouldn't have been such a broadside and it sure as hell wouldn't have been right where DiNozzo was sitting. Tim had to hold down the wave of nausea as he felt the urge to vomit, refusing to give in as it would mean dropping Tony.

"Almost there," he muttered through gritted teeth as Tony let out another groan, this one accompanied by fluttering eyelids. _Crap crap crap,_Tim thought desperately. He was glad that Tony was waking, but the next part, getting him onto the ground from the car was going to be the worst, and he had been hoping that DiNozzo would remain unconscious the whole time.

"The hell?" DiNozzo murmured faintly, and Tim paused and put a hand on the senior agent's shoulder.

"I'm getting you out of the car, Tony," he answered. "It…It's gonna hurt." Tony closed his eyes and stifled a grimace.

"Course it is," he muttered. Tim found himself smiling inwardly. Apparently, his thoughts about their situation apparently shared. Could anything honestly get worse?

"Okay, count of three, right DiNozzo?" McGee said, hoping he sounded a hell of a lot more confident than he felt. Tony nodded tersely, teeth already gritted, muscles tight. "One, two three," McGee counted, and pulled Tony's body out of the car. As careful as he was trying to be, Tony's legs hit the ground heavily, jarring the wound and causing Tony to scream.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," McGee muttered as he laid Tony on the ground. Tony was groaning in pain, sweat standing out on his forehead, breath coming in gasps. McGee's head was pounding worse than before, and as he stood up to get the forgotten first aid kit from the floor of the car, a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him.

"McGee?" Tony's voice asked weakly, but Tim couldn't really hear him for some reason, the world was spinning around him and he could no longer tell which way was up or down or any way, really… He let out a groan before the world finally stopped spinning only to turn black.


	3. Chapter 3

Faintly, McGee could hear someone saying his name, but whoever it was wasn't talking very loudly, and Tim had to strain to hear him.

"_Come on McGee, wake up," _the voice pled, and Tim wanted to, but he didn't want to get dizzy again and it was so hard… He was startled when something touched his shoulder and gradually started to wake. It was cold, he could hear something, he wasn't sure what, but it sounded terrible. Finally he opened his eyes, disoriented to find himself staring at the sky. It was overcast, gray clouds everywhere, and Tim thought vaguely that it might start raining soon. He blinked slowly, trying to remember what happened, and why the hell he was lying on the ground…Holy crap.

"Tony? Tony?" McGee cried, sitting up quickly and wincing as his head swam. After a second, he could focus again, and he gasped as he saw DiNozzo's still body. He had managed to drag himself to McGee's side, Tim was horrified to see the blood trail that he had left behind.

"Come on, DiNozzo," McGee muttered, placing his fingers on Tony's neck. His pulse was weak and thready, and his breathing was even more labored than before. McGee felt even more guilty as he realized that Tony had exhausted himself trying to help him. With shaking hands, Tim opened the first aid kit and took out gauze and tape. He wasn't entirely sure how one should treat a huge piece of metal sticking out of someone's body, but he was going to have to try and stop the bleeding somehow. He quickly pulled off his undershirt and ripped it in half, tucking it awkwardly around the metal, careful not to jar it. DiNozzo moaned slightly as Tim pressed heavily on the makeshift bandage, then used the tape to try to secure it in place.

"Hey Tony," Tim muttered, continuing to press on the bandage. "It'd be really great if you woke up, DiNozzo, but you make things hard on me whenever you can, huh?" McGee could picture Tony's ornery grin as he watched him struggle. _What's wrong, Probester? Too pansy to get me out of here?_ McGee looked closely at DiNozzo's face for a second, at the tightly shut eyes, the sweat trickling down his forehead, and he knew that he had to act fast. He needed to get cell service, hopefully it wouldn't be too far, he would just have to leave Tony behind…He didn't want to leave DiNozzo behind. But what else could he do?

"Okay DiNozzo, I'm gonna go get help, okay?" Tim said quietly, hating that he was leaving Tony alone, but honestly seeing no other solution. "Just hang on." Tim carefully moved Tony so that he was lying as comfortably as possible, Tim's jacket bunched up under his head, a blanket from the back of the car gently draped over him. McGee knew better than to bolt up again, and took his time standing up, pausing for the dizziness to subside. He hadn't taken two steps when a voice startled him.

"McGee?" _Crap._

"Yeah Tony?" McGee returned to the injured agent's side. "I'm going to go get help, Tony." Tony was blinking rapidly, and it took Tim a second to realize that he was blinking away tears.

"Please don't leave me," he whispered, and McGee's heart fell. He sounded so broken, so…hopeless. "In case…I…I don't want to be alone." Tim shook his head. This couldn't be happening.

"Okay Tony, I won't leave you, but don't talk like that, okay? You're gonna be fine." McGee's voice was shaking as much as his hands, but he hoped that Tony wouldn't notice.

"I want to go with you," DiNozzo said, and Tim looked at him.

"Are you serious, Tony? You're hurt."

"So are you. Come on, help me." His voice was weak and breathy, but Tim could hear the determination in it.

"Tony, if we shift that metal-"

"We both know that I'm not going to make it out of here if we don't get help anyway."

"Yeah, so you could wait for me here." Tony shook his head.

"No. If I go with you, hopefully I won't fall asleep," he murmured, and Tim could hear the fear in the statement.

"Okay. But it's gonna hurt like hell," McGee said, and knelt next to Tony. Tony gritted his teeth as McGee gently lifted him onto his feet. He slung Tony's left hand around his shoulder, managed to sort of grab his right pant leg because grabbing him around the waist was out of the question, and they started to half walk, half stumble down the road, hopefully to help and safety soon.


	4. Chapter 4

They hadn't walked far and Tony was already nearing collapse. He was leaning heavily on Tim, and his breathing was erratic and heavy. McGee was getting increasingly worried. He was constantly checking his cell phone, hoping and praying for reception, frustrated when he still didn't get any.

"How you doing-Probie?" DiNozzo murmured quietly, and Tim had to suppress a cry. Tony was clearly hurt worse, and he was still asking how he was?

"I'm fine, Tony," McGee answered reassuringly. "How 'bout you?" Tony winced and let out a small gasp of pain.

"'M okay," he answered, and Tim knew it was a bold-faced lie. "I'm sorry, McProbester." Tim was taken aback and nearly stopped.

"What the hell are you sorry for?" He demanded.

"'M senior agent," Tony muttered. "Should've had your six." Tim did stop at that.

"That's crap Tony," he said firmly. "I'm the one who stopped the car. I'm the one who got us into this mess. I'm the one that barely got touched, okay? So just shut up about that! You have nothing to be sorry for!" Tim barely realized that he was ranting, and he was startled when Tony blinked blearily up at him, shock in his eyes.

"Not your fault," he slurred, and Tim could see that he was visibly fading now. He was pale, sagging against Tim's side, and McGee knew that he was going to have to continue on his own. He had to. Rain started dripping onto them as Tim gently lowered DiNozzo to the ground.

"Tony," he said quietly, waiting for the green eyes to focus on him. "Tony, I've got to go get help, okay?" DiNozzo shook his head, fear like Tim had only seen once before on his face-the same fear he'd seen when Tony had had the plague. "I have to. I'll be fast, promise."

"Elf Lord," Tony gasped, and Tim was horrified when a trickle of blood started from his mouth and ran down his chin. "I'm sorry. Tell-Gibbs that I-I'm s-sorry." Tim grasped his shoulder, needing the contact as much for himself as for Tony.

"Tony. You're going to tell him yourself." He gently smacked DiNozzo's head and, getting a stern look that he hoped at least resembled Gibbs, said "You. Will. Not. Die." Tony snorted and laughed at that, causing more blood to spatter onto his face, and McGee winced.

"You-can't-do it," he gasped, and McGee allowed himself a small laugh.

"Yeah, I know. Seriously, Tony. I'll be back soon." DiNozzo nodded, and Tim carefully propped his head up on his jacket, then attempted to rig something out of basically nothing to keep the rain off of Tony's face. It didn't work.

"Sorry, DiNozzo," Tim murmured, and Tony half shrugged.

"Keep me awake," he slurred, and Tim nodded.

"I'll be back," he said, and took off. He was still dizzy and it made his head pound every time his feet hit the pavement, but he kept moving, jogging at a fast clip, cell phone out and constantly checking it.

"Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath, anxiety and panic making themselves manifest. Suddenly, he realized that he had reception. With shaking hands, McGee quickly dialled 911, explained the situation and their location, then hung up and called another number.

"Gibbs. This had better be good, McGee." For a second, Tim hesitated, uncertain of what to say.

"Boss, we got in an accident-"

"Are you okay? Is DiNozzo okay?"

"I'm fine, just hit my head. Tony's hurt pretty bad, boss."

"Okay, hang tight, we'll get there soon."

"I know. I've got to go, I've gotta get back to Tony." Gibbs hung up and McGee started jogging back to his injured teammate. As he neared him, Tim could see that DiNozzo hadn't moved at all since he'd left, and he realized that he couldn't see Tony's chest moving.

"Crap! No, no, no," he shouted, running quickly to Tony's side. "Tony, come on." He knelt next to DiNozzo's face, was relieved to feel a slight puff of air. It was barely there, but it was better than nothing.

"You did good, Tony," McGee muttered as he again put pressure on the wound. Tony didn't even move, and Tim felt a pang of fear. "You did good. Just a little bit longer." He could feel the senior agent shivering under his hands, shock and the rain and exhuastion taking their toll.

"Come on, come on," Tim muttered, waiting desperately for the sound of sirens. All he heard were the hitching breaths of his teammate and friend, and they were getting increasingly few and far between. "No, no, come on Tony, you can do it. Where are they?" He yelled, pressing harder against Tony's side. His hands were covered with red, sticky blood, and he had the urge to vomit, how could this be happening? It took him a few seconds to register the complete silence that surrounded him.

"Tony! Tony, damn it!" Tim shouted in panic as he realized that DiNozzo had stopped breathing. He checked for a pulse and found one, weak and slow, then tilted Tony's head back. "You are not doing this to me. Come on!" He leaned down and gave Tony two breaths, grateful when his chest raised, crushed when it remained motionless after the breaths. Tim could imagine DiNozzo mocking him, _Always knew you wanted to kiss me, Probie. I know I'm pretty but I don't roll that way._ He gave another two breaths, checked the pulse again –still there- and went back to the breaths. Suddenly he heard the sirens he'd been praying for, but didn't pause in his first aid, refusing to stop for any amount of time until there were paramedics at his side.

"How long ago did he stop breathing?" Someone was asking, and McGee blinked dazedly at the source of the voice. It took a few seconds for his vision to clear, and he saw a man looking at him, then he saw two other men bent over DiNozzo's still body, one of them rhythmically squeezing a bag over Tony's face.

"Holy crap," Tim muttered, feeling the world tilting around him. The man forcefully set him down on the ground, calling for something that McGee couldn't really hear. What the hell was going on? He started to panic as he realized that he couldn't see DiNozzo anywhere, didn't know if he was okay…Suddenly a pair of piercing blue eyes were looking into his.

"Calm down, Tim, you're okay," Gibbs said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're going to be okay. You did good, McGee." Tim felt a tear trickle down his face. He hadn't done good, he'd gotten Tony killed.

"Tony?" He managed between clenched teeth, and he didn't miss the pinched look Gibbs' face got.

"They're taking care of him. Ducky's riding with him to the hospital." McGee nodded, trying to remain calm as he felt himself being lifted onto something, then being moved into what he recognized as an ambulance. Gibbs was with him the whole time, one hand tightly grasped around Tim's, and for the first time, McGee let himself relax a bit. Gibbs was there. Everything would be okay. Tim couldn't help himself from adding, _Unless it wouldn't. _He tried not to think about it as the sirens started blaring and he felt the ambulance moving towards the hospital.

A/N: Thank you for all the awesome reviews! Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs rarely felt as helpless as he did right now. He sat in the ambulance, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, watching as the paramedics made sure that McGee was okay. Ducky was riding with Tony, Ziva following behind, Abby presumably already at the hospital. When had things gone so wrong?

"Looks like we've got a fracture to the left wrist," one medic said, interrupting his musings, and Gibbs saw Tim look at him in confusion.

"That can't be right, I would've known," he mumbled, and the paramedic shook his head.

"You had a lot of adrenaline going there," he explained. "You'll probably be feeling it before too long." McGee lapsed back into silence, staring at the ceiling, and Gibbs could tell by his face that something was bothering him.

"McGee? What's wrong?" Gibbs asked, and he wasn't too surprised to see tears in the agent's eyes when he turned to look at him.

"My fault," he muttered, returning his gaze to the ceiling.

"No it wasn't," Gibbs said firmly. "Not at all." McGee shook his head, drips of salty water trickling down his face, mixing with the blood still flowing from his head.

"Gibbs, Tony…" McGee's voice trailed off and Gibbs knew that he was still blaming himself. "Why aren't you with him?" Gibbs looked at him questioningly, and McGee looked away. "He's hurt worse than me."

"Tony's going to be fine," Gibbs said with as much conviction as he could muster. "Ducky can tell us what's going on with him, that's why he's riding with Tony. Besides, you need someone to ride with you too." There was a pause, and Gibbs continued. "And I mean what I said to you, Tim. None of this was your fault. You'd best get that out of your head if you don't want me to smack it." McGee nodded, closing his eyes in a wince as one of the medics stuck a needle in his arm. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at the medic.

"Pain meds," he explained. "He'll need to get checked out pretty thouroughly at the hospital, but at this point my guess would be a grade 3 concussion." Gibbs nodded. He had pretty much suspected as much.

"Boss," McGee moaned, and Gibbs turned his attention back to the agent. "'M gonna be sick." A medic quickly produced a bowl and Gibbs held it while Tim heaved into it. Awkwardly, he reached a hand out and set it on McGee's back, feeling the agent relax under his touch.

"It's okay, Tim," he said quietly, and he wasn't entirely sure how to react when he could feel Tim's body shaking with sobs. Then they were at the hospital and McGee was being pulled away, and Gibbs was hurrying out of the back to find Ducky. Ziva came in right behind him, wearing a look of panic that Gibbs was unaccustomed to seeing on her. Abby ran up to them as soon as they walked in.

"Report, Ducky," he said tersely as soon as he saw the doctor. Ducky looked even older than normal, worry evident on his face.

"It isn't good, Jethro," he said quietly, and Gibbs felt his stomach drop. "Anthony's blood pressure is dangerously low, they think there might be damage to his liver." Ducky paused, let the news sink in, dropping his eyes to avoid seeing the anguish evident in Gibbs' face. Ziva remained stoicly emotionless, refusing to give anything away, rubbing Abby's shoulder as Abby sobbed uncontrollably.

"What do you think, Duck?" He asked quietly, rubbing a hand over his eyes in exhaustion. Ducky hesitated before answering.

"I think it's going to be close, Jethro. But I also think that Anthony is rather hardy and if anyone can get through this, it's him." Gibbs nodded, noticing that Ducky hadn't started rambling about how this reminded him of some other time, and his worry increased a notch. Abby had buried her face in Ziva's chest by this point, and Ziva had her eyes closed as she rubbed Abby's back. Gibbs couldn't stay here. He had to know what was going on.

"Where is he?" Jethro barked out, and Ducky shook his head.

"He's in Trauma 2, Jethro, but you really shouldn't-" Gibbs was already stalking towards the room, Ducky's voice trailing off behind him. He opened the doors more quietly than he really wanted to, wanted to slam them open and announce his presence and scare the crap out of DiNozzo and make him obey, but instead he opened them quietly, entered the room as if he were sneaking in, stood quietly at the wall and out of the way while they worked on his senior agent –practically a son to him, now- trying to keep him alive. As he stood there, blood everywhere, hurried voices, sounds of machines and panic, he wanted desperately to head smack DiNozzo, wondered if that was weird, realized that it was his way of saying that DiNozzo meant something to him, was important, and he needed the contact.

"You aren't supposed to be in here," a nurse stated accusingly, and Gibbs just stared at her. She maintained eye contact for a moment before breaking it off, looking at the floor.

"Fine, just stay out of the way." Gibbs didn't acknowledge her again, focused his attention back on Tony. There was so much blood…and the metal shard sticking out of his side nearly made Gibbs physically ill to look at. Gibbs heard a commotion from the room next door, separated by a door with a window, and he could see that McGee was giving his doctors trouble. Gibbs stood up to go speak to the agent when an alarm went off, one that Gibbs knew all too well, watching in growing horror as someone started pumping his senior agent's chest. He cast one guilty look towards Tim, fighting harder now than before, and turned back to Tony. He couldn't leave now. He couldn't.

Ziva could hear the yelling from McGee's room, though she couldn't understand much of it. She was actually quite surprised that Tim would be shouting like he was, as he was generally mild mannered, but she supposed that with the stress of the day's events and the concussion, he had a right to be irritable. Abby and Ducky were staring at the door too, clearly as surprised by the outburst as she was.

"Miss? Are you here with Agent McGee?" A frazzled nurse asked, stepping out of the room Tim was in.

"Yes, I am," Ziva answered quickly.

"Could you come talk to him? We need him to calm down, rather not give him a sedative, but it's heading that way." Ziva nodded, followed them into the room, where Tim was struggling against the doctors to sit up.

"Tim! What are you doing?" Ziva demanded as she approached him. Tim gaped when he saw her.

"They won't let me see Tony!" He shouted, and Ziva realized that through the window, she could see everything happening in DiNozzo's room. _Oh no…_They were shocking him. Ziva shook her head, turned back to McGee, hands trembling as she tried to forget what she'd just seen.

"McGee, you need to calm down. Tony…Tony will be okay." She hated herself for lying, he was in the other room, dying on the table, "You need to take care of yourself, Tim. Once you get out of here, you can see him, right? And he wouldn't want you to be making trouble for the people who are trying to help you." She hoped, prayed, that she wouldn't have to tell him that Tony was dead when he asked to see him as she'd promised, wanted to sneak a glance into his room while at the same time, absolutely not wanting to know. She smiled at Tim, a forced, fake smile, but he seemed to take comfort from it, finally allowing himself to calm down.

"You'll tell me if you know anything about Tony?" He asked quietly, turning pleading eyes to her, and Ziva felt it like a blow to the gut.

"Of course," she said, hating herself for it. Then again, she didn't really know anything. After all, it was Tony. He'd be okay.

A/N: Thanks again for all of the good reviews, I really appreciate them. :)


	6. Chapter 6

The waiting room at Bethesda was full of tension. Gibbs sat, elbows on knees, chin on fist, while Abby paced nervously back and forth. Ducky was talking quietly to Palmer, and Ziva was leaning against the wall. They'd been there for an hour already, with no word on either of the injured men other than that Tony had been stabilized enough to be taken up to surgery.

Gibbs couldn't help but replay the moment he'd seen DiNozzo…die…over and over again in his head. It was a sight he had honestly hoped never to see, but with Tony, well. He supposed it wasn't all that unexpected or shocking. That man took more risks than anyone he knew. Reminded him of himself more than anyone he knew. He rubbed a tired hand through his hair, thinking about McGee and his obvious guilt. If DiNozzo didn't make it, Tim was going to be seriously messed up.

Ziva was having much the same thoughts as Gibbs. She had nearly panicked completely upon seeing Tony in such bad shape, even now couldn't bring herself to think the word that more accurately described what exactly she'd seen -because death and Anthony DiNozzo should never be in the same sentence- and it had taken her some time to calm down. Not as long as it had taken McGee. She had never seen the agent freak out so much in the time she'd known him, and it kind of frightened her. She wasn't sure what Tim was capable of, but she did know that it was pretty much crucial –for all of them- that Tony pull another miracle survival out of his bag of tricks.

"Are you here for Agent Tim McGee?" A nurse asked, and five bodies converged on the poor nurse quickly enough that she looked slightly flustered.

"Yeah," Gibbs said tersely, clearly speaking for the small mob surrounding her. The nurse nodded, plastered on a smile that they all knew was fake, and searched for a friendly face for a second before finally settling on Palmer. She had pointedly refused to make eye contact with Abby, Gibbs, and Ziva.

"He's got a concussion- a pretty nasty one, actually- and a broken left wrist. We've set the wrist, and we're keeping him for observation. You can see him if you'd like," she said, then appeared to rethink the statement as she looked at the group of people gathered around her.

"W-Well, actually, two of you at a time can see him. I'll take you to his room if you'd like." Gibbs didn't even need to say anything to get her walking, ahead of them and without speaking, looking over her shoulder every once in a while before continuing ahead. When Ziva thought about it, she realized that they probably were a rather intimidating looking group, Gibbs and Abby especially. They reached Tim's room, looked inside at the pale man lying on the bed, staring into space, emotionless, and none of them knew what to say. Finally, Gibbs stepped inside.

"McGee." Tim didn't even turn to face him. Gibbs was torn between chewing the agent out and telling him to get his pouting ass in gear and hugging him.

"McGee." He repeated it, not entirely surprised when he got the same lack of response. "It wasn't your fault." He sounded like a broken record, knew it, didn't know what else to do. He left the room quietly.

Ziva went next, didn't like what she was in for judging by Gibbs' face, stood uncertainly when McGee didn't even acknowledge her presence. Finally, she got angry.

"Stop pouting, Tim, it's not your fault and you need to stop thinking that, damn it!" She didn't really know what else to say, found herself wanting to hit him, instead stalked out of the room, going as loudly as she could.

Abby bounced in, all energy and excitement. It was all sucked away when she saw McGee.

"Aww, Timmy," she began, reaching out to put a tentative hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault." Tim whirled.

"Don't say that to me, damn it! It was my fault, sure as hell! So _stop_ telling me it wasn't! I stopped the car in a damn intersection! Who the hell does that? No one does that! A car came smashing through Tony's freaking door, because I stopped the damn car! A piece of metal went through Tony's side because _I stopped the damn car! _So don't you dare come in here all happy and bouncy and tell me that it's not me fault and pet me and act like Tony's fine, that he didn't already die once, that he's going to be okay because he's DiNozzo, because even DiNozzo can't survive everything! DiNozzo can't survive _me_! Damn it!" Abby was standing, stunned, tears streaming down her face and smearing her makeup, and Tim was staring at the wall again. Ducky and Palmer came in, comforted Abby, didn't speak to Tim, just turned and walked out without looking his direction, Abby breaking down into sobs now. And Tim stared at the wall, finally felt tears coming, sobbed long and hard until he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

A/N: So there was some Tim angst, more Tony next chapter. Thanks for all the sweet reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

The waiting room was still tense, though there was something other than the normal anxiety adding to the mood. None of them had known what to say after Abby's disastrous visit to McGee, though Ducky had tried explaining that after a concussion, people often got irritable…It hadn't really helped. They all knew that more was bothering Tim than a concussion. Gibbs seemed uncertain of how to act, which was a bit distressing for everyone else; he always knew what to do. Then again, they were at as much of a loss as he was. Not to mention that no one had heard anything about Tony yet, Tony who had been wheeled up to surgery a solid four hours before with a hunk of metal sticking out of his side. Gibbs had to remind himself that at least he wasn't dead yet, they would have told him already, _at least he isn't dead…_

"Gonna get a coffee," he muttered, standing, and none of the others even bothered looking up at him, too absorbed in their own thoughts to worry about his. Gibbs couldn't help but notice that Abby looked terrible, streaks of makeup on her cheeks, eyes red from crying. He shook his head and walked to the counter upon which sat a meager selection of magazines, most of them dog-eared and outdated, a pot of terrible smelling coffee, and a stack of paper cups. There were a few packets of sugar and cream, a couple straws scattered around. What a depressing place. Gibbs sighed and poured a cup of coffee, sipping it and hating it, sipping it again. He leaned against the counter, looked at the clock. Nearing eleven now, but it felt so much later, felt like it should be at least the wee hours of the morning, or possibly even sometime the next day…It had been such a long day…

Gibbs threw the empty cup away and slowly walked back to the group of anxious people waiting for news. Vance had joined them sometime since Tony had gone into surgery, Gibbs wasn't even sure when, and he already looked just about as worn down as the rest of them. Something about the hospital, about waiting rooms, sucked all the energy and warmth out of the room, drained you like you were aging in fast forward.

The tone shifted as a doctor came towards them, blue scrubs splattered with blood, appearing as weary as the rest of them.

"You here for Agent DiNozzo?" He asked, and there was less excitement at his words, more trepidation, more worry, than before. Gibbs nodded, snaked an arm around Abby who was already trembling. "He…He was in pretty bad shape," the doctor began, and Gibbs wanted to shout that they knew that already and he needed to get on with it, but he restrained himself.

"The metal broke his two bottom ribs and hit his liver," and there Abby started crying, quiet sobs that only Gibbs could feel fully, "But we were able to stop the bleeding. We had to remove a small part of his liver, but it's able to regenerate and we fully expect that to be the case with Agent DiNozzo. He lost a lot of blood and went into shock, and though we lost him once more during the operation, we got him back. We're still replenishing his lost fluids intravenously, and we have him on oxygen to help him breathe. He's going to have a long recovery period, and need lots of rest, but I think it's safe to say that he's doing well considering what he went through." They stood in silence, absorbing the news, relief and worry mixing to form a strange hybrid emotion.

"Can we see him?" Gibbs finally asked, surprised when his voice was slightly unsteady. _We lost him once more…_The doctor nodded.

"Only one at a time, five minutes at a time. He's still unconscious, but if you want to see him, you're welcome to. Someone will be along to show you where his room is shortly." He turned to leave, and Abby lifted her head.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly, tears glistening in her eyes. "Thanks." The doctor smiled, nodded, turned and walked away. Abby hugged Gibbs fiercely.

"He's alive, Gibbs," she whispered, and Gibbs was relieved to see some of her energy returning, her bounce restored. "He's gonna be okay!" Gibbs smiled and patted her back.

"Yeah, he is," he said. Even as he said it, he wondered what it would mean for McGee. Hopefully it would snap him out of this funk he'd gotten into. The nurse who was to lead them to Tony's room came, but as the others started to go with her, Gibbs stayed behind. He had something else to do first.

"McGee." As predicted, Tim refused to look at him once again. Gibbs felt bad as he realized that McGee could very well be asleep, but he highly doubted it. "McGee, we got word on Tony." The sudden tense set of the agent's shoulders confirmed Gibbs' suspicions. He remained standing there in silence until Tim finally rolled over and faced Gibbs. He refused to meet his eyes, but at least he wasn't just staring at the wall.

"Tim, look at me. Right here, Tim," Gibbs commanded, pointing to his eyes. McGee slowly made eye contact. "He's going to be okay. It was touch and go for a bit, but he's going to be okay. Do you hear me?" McGee nodded, blinking back tears.

"I hear you, boss," he whispered, and Gibbs inwardly smiled. It was a good sign.

"You can see him once you get out of here, so get your ass in gear and get out of here, okay?" McGee actually smiled at that, and Gibbs nodded.

"I'm going to go see him. Rest up, see you in the morning." He turned to leave, but stopped when McGee's voice followed him.

"Gibbs." He turned back, one eyebrow raised. "Thanks." Gibbs nodded and walked up to Tony's room. Everyone else had already been in to see him, and all but Abby had returned home to get what sleep they could.

"Gibbs!" Abby cried, hugging him as he walked up to her. "How's Tim?"

"He's getting there. Doing better than before, but he's still got a little ways to go." Abby nodded.

"Good." She nodded towards Tony's room. "Go on. He needs you, Gibbs." Gibbs took a breath and stepped into the room. It smelled the way they always smelled, clean and filthy at the same time, lingering traces of copper on the air. Tony was still and pale, _he hated seeing him like that, how many more times, DiNozzo?_, and there were tubes all over the place. IV lines, an oxygen mask, a catheter, heart monitor wires…He never got used to it.

"Damn it, DiNozzo," Gibbs muttered, sinking into the chair next to the still agent's bed. "This seems too familiar for my liking." Awkwardly, he reached a hand out and touched Tony's, careful not to jostle anything. He realized with a pang just how much this man meant to him, how terrified he'd been, how much he needed Tony to be okay. The day's events finally started to take their toll, and he felt his head drooping as he sat there, holding Tony's limp hand. Finally he drifted off to sleep, gentle snores mingling with the other noises in the room.

He didn't see the nurse come in to tell him to leave, didn't see her smile and shake her head and leave quietly. He also didn't see DiNozzo's eyes crack open a bit, focus blearily on his sleeping form, didn't see Tony's brief half-smile before joining him in sleep.

A/N: Next chapter should have some much needed talking between Tim and Tony… Thanks as always for reviews.


	8. Chapter 8

The day Tim McGee was released from the hospital was also the first day Tony DiNozzo managed to stay awake and also be half-lucid. Abby had excitedly informed Tim of the fact, apparently forgiving him completely for his breakdown two days before. McGee had nodded, truly happy, but also scared.

"Timmy," Abby said now, looking sternly at the agent standing in front of her, arms on her hips. "You should go see him." McGee shook his head, smiling placatingly at Abby.

"No, Abs, not yet," he murmured, and Abby's look turned into a full on glare.

"Why not, McGee?" She demanded angrily. McGee wiped a hand over his face and shrugged.

"I'm tired, Abby. I'm going to go home and get some sleep. And when Tony can stay awake for longer than five minutes at a time, I'll come see him, okay? But I can't handle it right now, to be honest, and I'm exhausted." He gathered the few items he needed to take home and started out the door. Abby watched him go, shaking her head, then turned and went upstairs. She would have to tell Tony.

Tony groaned as he woke for the second time. It was easier this time, everything more clear and understandable, the bright lights and myriad of noises less overwhelming than before. Blinking, he noticed Gibbs sitting in the chair next to the bed, Ziva talking quietly to Ducky next to him.

"Hey DiNozzo, good to see you again," Gibbs said, brushing a strand of hair from Tony's forehead.

"Yeah. McGee?" He murmured, looking around the room in obvious bewilderment. He started to try to sit up, wincing as it pulled at his stitches.

"He's…okay. He's a little emotionally unstable right now, but Timothy is doing quite well," Ducky said, coming to Tony's side. DiNozzo frowned.

""motionally unstable?" He slurred, brow furrowed in confusion.

"He is blaming himself," Ziva offered, and Tony closed his eyes, muttering something that sounded strangely like 'idiot' under his breath.

"'s not his fault," DiNozzo said, and Gibbs nodded.

"I know, DiNozzo. Tried to tell him but he didn't listen." Gibbs studied his senior agent intently as he saw the guilty expression that crossed over his face. "It wasn't your fault either. Get some rest and don't worry about it, okay? McGee will come around eventually." Tony showed no expression but allowed himself to relax into the bed. Abby came in, more subdued than usual, catching Gibbs' eye and gently shaking her head. She turned to Tony, smiling.

"Hey Tony! It's good to see you awake!" She would normally have thrown her arms around him, but noted the pallor of his skin and the bandages swathing his abdomen and settled for a kiss on the cheek. Tony smiled tiredly.

"Hi, Abs," he whispered. "You talk to McGeek?" Abby nodded slowly, biting her lip. Tony looked away. "Didn't want to see me, huh?" He tried to keep his tone light, tried not to let how much it hurt show, but he was failing miserably and could tell by Abby's face that everyone knew. DiNozzo shrugged, allowing his eyes to close.

"Oh well," he murmured. "He'll come around eventually." He echoed Gibbs' earlier words before falling asleep. Abby looked at him worriedly, exchanged glances with Gibbs. Gibbs felt his jaw tightening in anger. McGee had better get himself sorted out, and soon, or Gibbs would be doing the sorting himself.

Three days later, McGee was starting to feel bad about not seeing Tony, but he still couldn't bring himself to go to the hospital. Abby had stopped calling completely after the second day, obviously completely fed up with his failure to see his friend. Gibbs had yelled at him once over the phone, Ziva had asked him to come, and Ducky had launched into a story about someone he knew once, but McGee just wasn't ready. He honestly couldn't force himself to face down the man who he had grown to regard with the same fondness as he would an older brother, the man who he had nearly killed. Lying lethargically on his couch, flipping tiredly through his few channels, he was startled by the knock on his door, a rather insistent knock that had him leaping to his feet and opening the door quickly.

"McGee," Gibbs said, looking sternly at him. There was something else there, though, some other emotion trying to come through, and when Tim looked at his face, he suspected the worst. "Tim." McGee cringed. Definitely bad.

"What's wrong, Gibbs?" He whispered, not really wanting to know the answer. Gibbs looked him in the eye.

"Tony's taken a turn for the worse. He's developed an infection and he's been in and out of delirium all day. He's asking for you, McGee." Tim's face paled and he looked about to cry.

"What are they saying?" He asked quietly. "Is he gonna make it?" Gibbs looked away for a second, and Tim's heart dropped.

"They're just waiting for the antibiotics to work, Tim, but he's running a high-grade fever and he's been hallucinating. It's putting a lot of strain on him, McGee." There was a hesitation, a moment when Tim McGee almost thought Gibbs was trying to hold back tears, but he brushed the thought away. Gibbs wouldn't be crying. He'd just head-smack Tony and that would be that. Still…

"You need to go see him, Tim," Gibbs said quietly, and McGee finally nodded.

"Hang on. Let me change my clothes and I'll come with you." He ran to his room and threw some clothes on, then bolted back to Gibbs' side. Gibbs didn't smile at him, but Tim saw the slight nod of his head, his stance warmer than before, and knew that, at least in Gibbs' eyes, he'd finally done the right thing.

When he entered Tony's hospital room, McGee was suddenly very uncertain about whether he'd done the right thing of not. DiNozzo looked terrible. There were bandages swathed around his abdomen, a nasal cannula in his nose, sweat trickling down his face and plastering his hair to his forehead, his face flushed and clinched in pain. Tim felt weak in the knees suddenly, had to sit down in the chair next to Tony's bedside, hesitantly reaching a hand out to touch Tony's.

"McGee?" Tony mumbled, opening bleary eyes to look at him. Tim forced himself to smile.

"Yeah, hey DiNozzo," he murmured. "You don't look so great." Gibbs came in with a coffee, handed one to Tim and then stepped outside to give them some privacy.

"I always look-good, Probie," DiNozzo huffed, each word coming painfully. McGee grinned.

"That's true." Looking at the senior agent, Tim felt the familiar twinge of guilt starting up in his stomach, and he tried to force it down. Tony seemed to notice, even through the fever haze.

"McGeek. Not-your fault," he gasped. "Both know-I was being-a pain-in-the ass." Tim had to laugh.

"Yeah, you were. But I was stupid, Tony, I shouldn't have stopped the car-"

"Probie. Don't-give-yourself so much-credit," Tony muttered, gasping for air after.

"Tony, shut up. You need to rest," Gibbs muttered, poking his head through the door. DiNozzo nodded.

"Prob'ly right," he slurred, eyelids already drooping closed. Gibbs came in and sat next to Tim, who was staring worriedly at Tony.

"You did good, McGee," Gibbs muttered, placing a hand on Tim's shoulder. "He's gonna get over this and you're gonna be fine." McGee nodded, still not taking his eyes off of the still senior agent. Suddenly, he noticed something, a slight twitch in Tony's hand that gradually got more and more pronounced.

"Gibbs," he called out, staring wide-eyed as DiNozzo started going into full-on convulsions. Gibbs slammed the call button and yelled for help as McGee sat helplessly, watching in terror as Tony's limbs flailed. A nurse hurried in followed closely by a doctor and some other people, and McGee vaguely allowed himself to be shoved out of the room with Gibbs. Standing in the hallway as they tried to get DiNozzo under control, Tim lost it. He felt the tears before he even realized he was crying, and by then he had slid down the wall with his face buried in his knees. Shoulders shaking with sobs, he was somewhat surprised when someone wrapped him in a hug, even more surprised when he realized it was Gibbs. McGee found himself curling in, shoving his wet face into Gibbs' shoulder, crying into it like a little boy, not even caring. Gibbs patted his back, and after a second, Tim realized he was whispering things to him, soothing words of comfort. With a shuddery gasp, he allowed himself to relax into Gibbs' embrace, tears still flowing down his cheeks. Gibbs didn't quit his comforting routine, _stroke, whisper, stroke, whisper…_ They sat like that for a long time.


	9. Chapter 9

Well, Gibbs pondered to himself, Tim McGee was done feeling sorry for himself. It had been two days since Tony had had the seizure, and the fever had barely gone down. DiNozzo had yet to regain consciousness. Tim McGee had yet to leave his side. He was furious with the senior agent.

"Seriously, DiNozzo, get your ass out of that bed in the next couple of days or you're gonna regret it," he growled, and Gibbs felt his eyebrows raise. McGee was hardly a violent man, but the past couple of days had lead to more grumbled threats and snarled curses, startling all of them. If Tony heard, he gave no indication of it, still thrashing restlessly, sweat-drenched and hot.

"McGee." Gibbs spoke quietly, uncertain what the man would do if he was startled. He had never seen Tim this way and found himself a bit wary of him. "You need to get some rest." McGee looked at him, a darkness and intensity in his gaze that Gibbs was unaccustomed to seeing.

"I'm fine, Gibbs," he said firmly, and the set in his voice made it clear that he was not backing down in any way, shape, or form. Gibbs sighed, rubbed a hand wearily over the space between between his eyebrows. Normally, he wouldn't tolerate that kind of blatant insolence, but considering the circumstances and how only a few days ago McGee was practically catatonic… He finally conceded and walked to the doorway of Tony's room, leaning against the doorframe. A sudden laugh surprised him and he turned to see Ducky chuckling.

"What?" He demanded, missing the humor in the situation completely.

"He's acting exactly like you, Jethro," Ducky said, shaking his head. "You're like a mother bear when one of your people goes down, snapping at everyone who gets near you. It's actually quite uncanny." Gibbs glared at him.

"Well, I don't like it. If I wasn't so worried about DiNozzo…" He allowed his voice to trail off and sighed. "You think he's gonna get better, Duck?" He didn't meet Ducky's eyes, but he knew that the doctor was probably wearing an expression of shock. He wondered if the wear and tear of the last week was showing as badly as he suspected.

"Jethro," he started, not really certain how to start. A string of curses wafted out of the door to Tony's room, and Ducky smiled sadly. "If he doesn't improve in the next few days, then the antibiotics are useless. I'm hopefuly, Jethro, it is Tony after all, and he has proven to be a man of some stamina, but I'm not going to make any promises." Gibbs nodded and looked at the floor. His phone rang suddenly, startling him.

"Gibbs," he muttered, his standard answer, and was immediately bombarded with Abby's frantic voice demanding an update on Tony's condition. He could hear Ziva in the background, saying something soothing, and smiled as he realized that they were together. "No change, Abs, but McGee is about to kill something. What are you two doing?" Abby quickly explained that they were watching some of Tony's favorite movies, she hadn't seen _The Defiant Ones_ and she figured she really should so that Ziva knows what Tony was talking about, you know, when he was chained to White, and then she thought that maybe a Bond movie, Sean Connery since he's Tony's favorite and- Gibbs' head hurt.

"Abby," he muttered. She stopped talking.

"Gibbs, he's going to be all right," Abby said finally, and he could hear Ziva echo the statement.

"I know," Gibbs answered, though he didn't, and Abby sighed.

"Tell Timmy not to hurt anyone," she said finally.

"He's not listening to me right now, Abs."

"Okay, then don't let him hurt anyone. I'm counting on you, Gibbs. He's pretty messed up right now." Gibbs briefly wondered if Abby knew more about McGee than he did, something he didn't think was outlandish. They were tight, and if the panicked agent was going to talk to anyone, it would be Abby.

"Okay, Abby. I won't. You and Ziva take care, okay? I'll call you if anything changes." He turned his attention back to Ducky, who smiled tiredly at him.

"I'm going home for the night, Jethro. These old bones can't handle long nights like this anymore, though there was a time when I stayed up later than all the other lads." Gibbs nodded, clapping a hand on the doctor's shoulder, watched as he shuffled down the hallway. _Damn, it looks like he's aged ten years in the past week._ He imagined that he looked much the same.

"Gibbs! Boss! Holy crap!" It was McGee, his voice echoing through the hospital, making Gibbs wince as he thought about the reactions of the hospital staff. He ran into the room, staring wide-eyed at McGee who was pointing excitedly at Tony. Gibbs couldn't see any difference.

"He opened his eyes! He opened his eyes and said my name! He knew who I was, it wasn't delirium!" Gibbs stared at the still agent who hadn't moved since he'd entered the room and felt a pang of sadness as McGee continued to babble. He would be crushed when…_Son of a bitch._ Tony's eyes were cracked open slightly and he managed a wan smile at Gibbs.

"'Ey, boss," he murmured through chapped lips. Gibbs found himself grinning as Tim crowed triumphantly about being right.

"Good thing you're up, DiNozzo," he murmured. "McGee was about to commit murder." Tim had the decency to blush.

"I wasn't," he muttered, but Gibbs found himself suspecting that the thought had probably crossed his agent's mind as McGee looked at the floor. Seeing the way Tony and Tim kept kind of avoiding eye contact with each other, he figured they could use some time to themselves.

"I'm gonna go get a coffee," he announced, leaving the room.

The silence was only awkward for a minute.

"Glad you're here, Probie," Tony said quietly.

"Me too," McGee answered. This time, the quiet that wrapped itself around them was comforting. There was an unspoken understanding between the men. Tim broke the silence again, looking thoughtfully at Tony.

"What movie did that remind you of?" He asked, and DiNozzo grinned.

"The Bourne Supremacy, Probie. Matt Damon, Karl Urban-"

"I know what it is, Tony, I've seen it." DiNozzo stared at him, not even trying to mask his surprise. Tim shook his head. "I do watch movies sometimes. It's been known to happen."

"Okay, okay. Anyway, you know that car chase scene?" Tony nodded in satisfaction. "That one." McGee rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, real similar. Except that we weren't in a chase, we weren't in a tunnel, and you aren't an assassin. In fact, I don't really see it, Tony." DiNozzo groaned.

"Way to crush a man's dreams, McLoser." Tim grinned.

"Hey, that's what I'm here for." Tony allowed his eyes to close as he felt, finally, a natural, restful sleep wash over him. Just before he went under, he cracked an eyelid.

"Oh, and Probie? Next time, I drive."

A/N: Okay, so there it is, my first NCIS fic! Sorry it took me about a billion years to update. Thanks for the reviews and for everyone who stuck it out.


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